The Seeker
by AshesGleamandGlow
Summary: Harry loves flying on his broom, but he can't ride it during the summer. So, he found an alternative. ONE-SHOT, canon divergence, for The Golden Snitch, COMPLETE


**For the Golden Snitch forum**

 _ **School, house:** Mahoutokoro, Mizu_

 _ **Prompt:** Daily Prompt: Adult Tricycle_

 **For the Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges forum**

 ** _Prompt:_** Crayola Color Challenge: Midnight Blue

 _ **Word count:** 1,263_

 ** _Un-beta'd_**

 ** _000_**

He first learned of trike drifting in the summer before his third year, during his time "confined" to Diagon Alley. It's hard to confine someone in a single place when they own an invisibility cloak and cunning to rival Salazar Slytherin himself, after all. Having never seen London in its entirety, there was no way he _wasn't_ going to do some exploring.

He'd wandered Charing Cross Road, eventually heading toward Charing Cross Station where he found a rather large crowd in the square nearby. Curious and drawn by what sounded sort of like lawn mowers, he'd worked his way to the front of said crowd. There, he saw one of the most amazing things he'd ever seen. Teenagers and adults, riding what looked like Dudley's old tricycle in large, were _spinning_ and _coasting_ and _drifting_ , in the middle of the city, whooping and hollering, and _no one was telling them to stop_. Some had engines, some didn't, the only things they all had in common was their helmets and their obvious good cheer.

One of the younger looking teens pulled to a stop in front of him and grinned. "Wanna take it for a spin?"

Harry had never said yes faster in his life.

 ** _000_**

He was hooked. It was almost like riding his broom, but could be enjoyed around muggles!

The trike he'd borrowed was a little big for him, but the girl who owned it assured him he'd be able to make one that fit him like a glove, no sweat. Of course, he'd have to decide if he wanted it to be motorized or not, and then plan around that. Not to mention he'd have to get the stuff needed, have access to someplace to assemble it, and either know how to weld, himself, or know someone who knew how and would be willing to help. But other than that, it'd be easy!

He refused to be deterred by such things. He had the money, he was sure!

Just to be safe, though, Harry went to Gringotts the next day and inquired about the state of his finances. Turns out, he had the money to make a whole fleet of drift trikes. Custom made. In a professional shop. That he commissioned. And later bought.

He was loaded, to tell it simply.

And that was just his trust vault, the vault for any of his needs or wants, within reason, that he personally controlled. Trust vaults were, apparently, akin to training wheels on a bicycle; meant for practicing how to manage his own money in a safe environment without the risk of spending every knut without knowing.

When he'd asked about the conversion rate for galleons to British pounds, the goblin that managed the Potter accounts grinned a large, toothy grin and passed him what looked like a muggle debit card.

"This card will be directly linked to your trust vault and can be used from either world, with a five thousand galleon spending limit per month until you reach the age of fifteen. The price of such a card is usually a hundred galleons, easily, but as a valued, and profitable, patron, you may have it at fifty galleons, instead."

After leaving Gringotts fifty galleons -and a horcrux- lighter, Harry promptly went on a shopping spree that would have horrified some shopaholics.

He came back that night with a brand new, fully furnished, five compartment trunk, a full wardrobe of clothes that fit him much better than his old clothes, and most of the stuff needed for his drift trike.

 ** _000_**

Harry had a dilemma. He wanted a motorized drift trike, but muggle technology and magic mixed about as well as oil and water did without help, and he really wanted to use his trike at Hogwarts, which was about as magical as magic could get. And sadly, eating his delicious ice cream sundae wasn't making it any easier to figure out.

"Problem?" Mr Fortescue had been helping him with some of his history homework while he was "confined", and he'd been a really big help with a most of his other subjects, as well.

"I'm trying to make something that's completely muggle, but works just as good, if not better, when it's near magic, but I just can't figure out how to do it without getting rid of the motor! But the motor is what makes it so fast and so effortless! And it's the best way to keep from accidentally breaking the Stature of Secrecy when I use it around muggles!" Harry thumped his head down onto the table. "I don't know what to do."

Mr Fortescue hummed in thought before speaking once more. "Have you thought about runes? They're incredibly versatile, and I know for a fact they can be used to block magic from touching whatever they're engraved upon. I'm sure they'd be your best bet."

And so Harry owled his Head of House about changing electives.

 ** _000_**

Third year runes spent most of the time teaching about the runes they'd be using, having them memorise each rune individually, and getting them used to drawing those runes. Harry spent most of his free time in his trunk designing his trike and researching any spells that might help the assembly.

Fourth year runes taught about how to connect series of runes to get the desired result, how to plot where to place each rune for the optimum effect, and repeated everything they'd done the year before, but with a new runic alphabet. What little free time Harry had that year was spent making his trike, using little known spells to cut the BMX bike he'd bought to his specifications and welding parts together. He also spent much of that time practicing his fire extinguishing charms.

Fifth year runes finally introduced engraving the runes into inanimate objects while testing them on how much of the previous years information stuck. By that year, he'd successfully made his trike and just needed the rune powered engine he'd been designing made and installed, and for his trike to be painted and named. He'd gotten his helmet during the summer, and he just needed to decorate it now.

Summer after fifth year, whenever he woke up from a nightmare from his last end of the year escapade, he'd go into his trunk and work on the engine. After a month of that, the engine was finished and ran wonderfully. He then worked on installing it when he had a hard time sleeping. Finally, on his birthday, he was ready to paint.

 ** _000_**

The _Sidewalk Drifts_ , a troop of British trike drifters that put on public shows every weekend during summer in London, were headed to the square they traditionally performed at this time of year when they noticed a crowd had already gathered. Confused, as such a thing had never happened in previous years, they pushed their way to the front of the crowd and stopped dead in shock.

In the center of the crowd, there was a lone trike drifter. The midnight blue trike was obviously homemade; none of them had seen a design quite like it before. It had a customized motor that was hard to hear over the excited crowd.

"Who _is_ that?" was the general consensus among the troop.

One drifter noticed the name written in gold on the back of the seat.

 _The Seeker._


End file.
